


A Safe Place

by destielwithashotgun



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Blood, Bruises, Child Abuse, Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Hurt, Hypothermia, Mentions of drugs, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23974264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielwithashotgun/pseuds/destielwithashotgun
Summary: JJ doesn't trust others the way he trusts Kiara, Pope, and most of all John B. He doesn't trust his dad not to hurt him. He doesn't trust DCS not to stick him in a foster home that would probably be worse than his dad is. He doesn't trust any Kook, no matter how much time he spends working for them, because he needs to eat but God knows he's certain that one of them is going to raise a hand to him someday.John B knows that JJ's trust in him shouldn't be taken lightly. He know's that when JJ trusts him to take care of him when his dad beats the shit out of him, it means something more than friendship. They're brothers. He just wished he didn't kick JJ out when he knew what he would go through at home.
Relationships: JJ (Outer Banks) & John B
Comments: 7
Kudos: 254





	A Safe Place

**Author's Note:**

> I love JJ and I love John B, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little bit upset when JJ was sobbing in the hot tub and John B wasn't there like the other two were. So this is what came of it. 
> 
> Ignore like, all the canon events that happened during the show.

JJ could never imagine John B kicking him out. John B was the only one who knew the full extent of what JJ went through at the hands of his father. But grief did powerful things, he supposed, because when he comes crashing into John B's house like he owns the place, hoping the blunt in his hand will help him forget the bruises on his chest, John B looks at him and shakes his head. There's something different about his eyes.

JJ had rarely seen it before. Not in John B. But he had seen the same anger in his dads eyes many times, and he involuntary took a step back. John B swiped the top of the desk he was standing next to, sending papers JJ had never seen before fluttering to the ground. His breathing was heavy, and JJ recognized the anger in his eyes as a mask. He was hiding his sadness. 

"JJ...can you just- find somewhere else tonight? Please? Just for tonight. I just- I need to be alone tonight." JJ nodded immediately, despite having no idea where he could go next. 

"Yeah, dude, of course. I'll see you tomorrow." And John B didn't reply, immersed in whatever he was staring at already, but JJ held on to that word because if he only thought about tomorrow, he didn't have to think about tonight. 

The blunt dropped from his fingers at some point, probably laying on John B's couch for them to smoke tomorrow, and JJ pushed open the screen door and began walking. He didn't know where he was going, but he walked in the direction of home because he couldn't think of anywhere better. Kiara's family was Kook, there was no way he could get away with going there. And even IF Pope's family let him stay for the night, Pope had that huge test he was stressed about and JJ wasn't going to mess him up. 

The temperature dropped as he walked, and the sky overhead threatened rain. If he didn't get inside soon, he risked being caught in the storm. He knew from prior experience that, despite living on an island, things could get real cold real quick without at least a little shelter. 

He was in front of his house only a few minutes later, the wood creaking under the wind that had picked up as he walked. Hoping that his dad had already passed out, JJ opened the door as quietly as possible. All he had to do was get passed the living room and once he made it into his own room, he was most likely safe. 

Unfortunately, luck was not in his favor. The second he made it past the kitchen table, hid dads voice boomed from the shadows. "Where are you going boy?" From the obvious slur in his words, Luke was already shitfaced. Fuck. 

"Dad," JJ said, trying to think something up as quickly as he could. Outside, the wind howled as the first few drops of rain started falling. 

"Where the hell have you been?" His dad asked. JJ knew better than to answer. His dad didn't actually care about where he had been. JJ, in an effort to avoid being cornered, shifted toward the hallway opening. That was a mistake. 

"Where you trying to run to?" His dad asked, voice booming over the oncoming storm. "Good for nothing son of a bitch," he muttered, taking one more drink from the bottle he clutched in his hand. He stared at his son, eyes narrowed, and JJ felt his heart beat in his throat as he swallowed. 

Without warning, Luke pulled his arm back and threw the bottle at JJ, narrowly missing his chest when JJ ducked to the side. The bottle shattered on impact, bruising JJ's shoulder and impaling shards of glass in his skin. He tried not to make a sound. 

A few seconds later his dad was on him, slamming his head against the wall once, twice, three times and yanking him to the floor, where JJ didn't hesitate to curl up and protect his face. He was going to be ok, he promised himself. He hadn't done anything wrong yet, and the beatings only got bad when he did something wrong. 

His dad lashed out with his foot, drunk enough that he only managed to hit JJ's arm. Unfortunately, it was the arm that had been hit with the bottle, and when it was jostled JJ couldn't help but let out a hurt noise. 

"What was that!" His dad yelled. "You pathetic piece of-" and on and on he went, his kicks finding their aim the longer he lashed out, and most of them went into JJ's ribs. Thunder rattled the house, half drowning out the drunken yelling. JJ's head snapped up when his dad's foot found an open spot under his chin. He couldn't help but cry out. 

"Your mama knew it when she left! She knew she was leaving me with a worthless son!" the kicks stopped coming, and JJ assumed it was over. His dad never stayed mad for long, not when he was drinking. Then he felt a heavy weight settle over his legs. 

His eyes snapped open, and he didn't have enough time to process that they had been closed in the first place when his dad wrapped heavy hands around his throat. JJ let out some sort of pained gasp, panic making him kick, buck, anything to get his dad off him so he could breathe again. 

Black spots danced in front of his eyes as he struggled, the hands closing in around his throat, choking him. He had no idea what he did. JJ could count on one hand the amount of times his dad had choked him, and he usually saved it for when he was really mad about something. 

As his efforts to get away weakened, the hands around him suddenly went slack and JJ heaved in a gasping breathe. There was blood running into his eye from somewhere, but he couldn't get a hand up to wipe it away. His dad grabbed his arm, digging the glass deeper into the skin, and dragged him toward the front door. 

"Get out of my house," he rasped, blowing beer-smelling breath into JJ's face. He tossed JJ out onto the dirt, and there was nothing JJ could do to catch himself as he hit the ground hard. 

He was immediately splattered with mud, and the rain pouring out of the sky drenched him in seconds. He wondered if it was washing away the blood. 

He stayed there for a minute, trying to catch his breath even as his ribs protested drawing in air. The wind blew over him, and in almost no time his skin was numb. He shivered, but it hurt. He didn't want it to hurt anymore. He just wanted it to stop. Vaguely he knew that falling asleep in the mud was only going to make things worse, but it was a while before he could tear his eyes open and struggle to his feet. Where were his shoes? 

He wasn't dressed to go anywhere, not anymore. Not after his dad had managed to rip his shirt half open, and his shoes had somehow disappeared. But even in his addled mind, he knew that he had to get somewhere safe. And unconsciously his feet started walking toward John B's place. 

There was nobody out to see him, not in the storm, but he still felt self conscious as he walked. It was only halfway there that he remembered what John B said. He needed space tonight, didn't he? And JJ could at least be a good friend and give him that. But his ribs gave another twinge of pain, and he would have had to turn about to get to Pope's house, and slowly his own self pity wore off. Maybe he could stay in the boat or something, put the tarp over himself and go to sleep. 

He didn't know how long he had been walking when he finally got to John B's. He didn't feel right, sort of woozy and sick, and exhaustion marred every bone in his body. He couldn't feel his hands or feet, and absentmindedly he wondered what all he stepped in during his blind stagger to safety. He didn't give thought to why he wasn't shivering anymore, but he wiped the soaked hair out of his face before he raised a hand to knock on John B's door. 

He rarely knocked. Usually he just walked in because it's not like he didn't practically stay there every night. But some part of him realized that if he was interrupting John B's one night on his own, he should at least do him the favor of knocking. Almost unconsciously he moved to lean, or really collapse, against the door frame. His eyes were half shut when the door finally swung open. 

John B stood in the center of the doorway, shirtless and red-eyed, and his mouth fell open when he saw JJ. "JJ what the hell," he said on instinct, and JJ moved half-lidded eyes up to meet his. 

He was safe now. And now that he had made it to safety, his adrenaline faded. 

John B's eyes lingered on his wet clothes, shoeless feet, and the cut above his eyebrow. "JJ did you walk here?" he asked, which in retrospect was probably a dumb question. Instead of answering, JJ tipped forward, knee's buckling and hair falling into his eyes as he collapsed. 

John B caught him easily. "Woah k buddy, I've got you. C'mon." He didn't have to ask what happened. Instead, he maneuvered them until he could put JJ down on the couch, where the boy curled up instinctively, eyes already closing again. "Hold on J," John B said, tapping JJ's cheek lightly. "We gotta get you cleaned up first before you can sleep." JJ groaned, but he forced his eyes to open again slightly. 

John B sat in front of him on the coffee table, pushing aside his guilt for a second so he could examine his friend. 

"JJ I need you to tell me what he did," he said softly, already reaching into one of the drawers to retrieve the first aid kit they kept there. 

"Hit me," JJ rasped after a minute. "Beer bottle. Kicked. And...choked me." It was all muttered, half slurred, but it gave John B an idea of what to look for. It also concerned him. JJ was talking like he had a head wound, and everyone knew that those could go bad fast. 

Carefully, John B lifted JJ's head, trying not to hurt him, but to stare at the darkening finger prints around JJ's neck. He swallowed convulsively. "We need to take your shirt off," he said, fingers already pulling at the wet fabric. 

It said a lot that JJ didn't flinch back at the touch, like he would with Pope or Kiara. It was the trust JJ put in him that made John B hurt a little bit, because JJ trusted him and John B let him go out to get beat up. 

"Hmm" JJ just hummed as John B tugged at his clothes. He didn't make any move to lift his arms and help, and finally John B sighed and just ripped the shirt off. It wasn't like it was hard, since the top was already torn halfway down his chest. 

Bruises littered the entirety of JJ's torso, and JJ flinched a little bit when John B reached out to brush his fingers over one. His skin was still ice cold, and with a start John B realized he needed to be worried about hypothermia as well. 

"Fuck," he said softly. There was a big chance part of JJ's lethargy was due to hypothermia, and John B knew that if he didn't warm him up quickly things could go south fast. "JJ," he said, tapping JJ on the cheek again. 

"Wha'?" JJ replied, eyes rolling lazily in their sockets as he tried to focus on John B. 

"We need to get your pants off. They're soaked and they aren't going to help you warm up before you die of hypothermia," John told him. All JJ did was hum in agreement, but his hands did find their way to his belt as his fingers struggled to undo the buckle. Finally, they stopped, unsuccessful. 

"Can't feel anythin', JJ mumbled, and John B was quick to reassure him. 

"That's ok, that's ok I've got it." He got JJ's pants off without too much of a hassle, and then shoved JJ over on the couch so he could wrap the heavy quilt around both of them while still checking on the rest of his injuries. 

The cut above JJ's brow was still oozing blood slowly, so John B started with that, cleaning it up and bandaging it so there was no chance for infection. JJ's shoulder was next, and though he winced when John B pulled the glass out with tweezers, he didn't react when it was cleaned and dressed. "J stay awake please," John B murmured. "Just a little longer buddy, I promise." 

He prodded JJ's chest, and though the livid bruises were obvious cause for concern, the most he could tell was that only a few ribs were cracked, and they would heal on their own. "We're gonna reposition here JJ, ok? I'm gonna give you some of my body heat," John B told him. 

As gently as he could, he moved JJ so the other boy was laying against his chest, heavy quilt wrapped around both of them. It made John B nervous that JJ didn't crack any lewd jokes. What if it was more than just hypothermia making him this way? 

"Hey, JJ," he said loudly, and JJ sighed pitifully as he tried to respond. 

"John B?" he asked. 

"Yeah dude. Did your dad hit you in the head at all?" 

JJ seemed to think on that one for a minute, and John B almost thought he fell asleep. Finally, "no," he muttered. "Not my head." John B narrowed his eyes. 

"Yeah I'm not sure your memory is the most reliable at the moment. I'm gonna check, ok?" when there was no answer, John B went ahead, brushing his fingers through JJ's hair in search of a goose egg, or dried blood. Or something that would help explain JJ's current...behavior. JJ had always been so good at playing off his injuries. The way he was acting scared John B more than he cared to admit. 

JJ relaxed slightly when John B ran his fingers through his hair, and hummed in annoyance when they were taken away. Finally satisfied that he had taken care of all that he could, John B slid out from behind JJ. 

"JJ, we're gonna get you off the couch, yeah? You can sleep in my bed tonight, with all the blankets I've got in this place." 

It took them a minute, but John B finally managed to maneuver JJ up and off of the couch, leaning almost his entire weight against John B as John pulled him toward his bedroom. JJ's head lolled against his shoulder, almost unwilling to let go when he finally set him down on the bed. John B was immediate in pulling blankets over JJ, waiting until there were enough to smother him before pausing. 

He paused for a minute, and JJ's eyes slid open just a little bit. He lifted his arm out of the mess he was laying in and gestured for John B to get in. 

"Are you sure you don't want something hot to drink or something?" John B fumbled, heart straining against the knowledge that it was his fault JJ was hurt. 

"Jus' come 'ere," JJ said, and John B complied, falling into the mattress and tucking himself under the blankets. Outside, the wind was still blowing. There was silence for a while, the only sound being the chattering of JJ's teeth as he finally warmed up and started shivering again. John B knew that was a good sign, no matter how bad it looked. 

When he finally thought JJ had fallen asleep, the other boy started to talk. "You know I w-w-would have had to go home ev-eventually right?" he said. John B was silent.   
"It's not you...your fault." 

"I kicked you out," John B replied finally, guilt eating away at his words. 

"You're allowed to want to be a-a-alone," JJ insisted. "Your problems aren't smaller b-because my dad is- is an asshole." 

John B was silent again. JJ rolled into him, pressing his back against John B's chest and making both of them shake with JJ's violent shivers. "W-what you're not allowed to d-d-do is...is blame y-yourself, got it?" 

John B lifted an arm over JJ, used to sharing a bed with his childhood best friend and not used to it being for hypothermia. "Stop talking. You're stuttering harder than that touron we had at Kiara's kegger last month." Both of them were quiet for a minute. Then, "I got it," he said. 

He felt more than heard JJ sigh, and he pulled his friend a little tighter against him because if he couldn't stop the bastard from hurting JJ, he could damn well stop that goddamn shivering. JJ was asleep immediately.


End file.
